"I beg your pardon," the courteous Virginian replied, "but at least you shall be hungry no longer. My staff and I will postpone our breakfast until you have eaten. Pompey!" An old negro came out of the cook-tent. He had been one of George Washington Parke Custis's slaves. When freed, he had refused to leave "Marse Robert," whose cook he had become. He wore the remains of a Confederate uniform. "Pompey, give these gentlemen our breakfast. We will wait."
"But—but—Marse Robert, I'se dun got real coffee dis mornin'."
"Our involuntary guests," said Lee with a gentle smile as he turned to the prisoners, "will, I hope, enjoy the real coffee."
And enjoy it they did. It and the cornbread and bacon that came with it were nectar and ambrosia to the hungry prisoners. The only fleck upon the feast was when one of them, in his hurry to be served, spoke rudely to old Pompey. The negro turned away without a word, but his feelings were deeply hurt. When the Union officer hurled after him a word of foul abuse, Pompey turned back, laid his hand upon his ragged uniform, and said:
"I doesn't objeck to de pussonal cussin', sah, but you must 'speck de unicorn."
After that the "unicorn" and the fine old negro who wore it were both amply respected. When everything in sight had been eaten, the prisoners were ordered to fall in line. Their guards stood in front of the little column, beside it, behind it.
"Forward, march!"
They marched southward for a few miles, tramped through the swarming, somber streets of Richmond, and reached Libby Prison. Its doors closed behind them with a clang. Captivity in the open had been hard enough to bear. This new kind of captivity, within doors, with barred windows, was to be harder yet. Tom was to spend six weary months in Libby Prison.
It was while he was there that Abraham Lincoln made his wonderful Gettysburg speech.